Love is Hell
by Heath07
Summary: Slash. Ryan goes back to Newport for a special event. [Complete]
1. Coming Home

Title: Love is Hell (The title of this fic is shamelessly stolen from Ryan Adams.)

Rating: R

Summary: Slash. Ryan goes back to Newport for a special event.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. :(

Notes: There will be five parts to this fic.

Thank you so much to my wonderful betas mel39 and joey51. They're like Jesus and Moses, working together for the greater good of fanfic readers everywhere.

Love is Hell 1/5

* * *

**Coming Home**

He was going back, back to Newport where everything was beautiful and perfect -- on the outside, at least.

The rain, falling against the rooftop of the car, sounded like glass beads hitting an out-of-tune piano. It was steady and comforting. Too comforting, almost. The last thing he needed was to fall asleep at the wheel and get into some horrible wreck, scattering his body parts across the freeway and making the Cohens identify his mangled mess.

His mother, Ryan remembered, hated the rain. She used to say, "_It's always raining somewhere, Ry. And wherever the rain goes, sadness follows. I like it when the rain stops falling; you_ always _know there'll be a rainbow soon._" Not that Ryan really listened. She was drunk half the time and her advice wasn't exactly coming from a clear place. Even if the rain _was_ a bad omen, he still liked the way it sounded against the panel of steel above his head.

It wasn't the first time since he'd moved away that he was coming back. He made the trek at least a few times a year, but this time was different...

The rain petered off around the same time the engine light went on.

The car was going to quit soon if he didn't fill the tank and give it a chance to cool off. Finally, he pulled into a gas station a few miles from Newport Beach. When he stepped out of the car, he was surprised to find his legs were numb and he had to grip the door to keep himself upright. Shaking out his legs, he regained circulation before proceeding to pop the hood and check the engine. After making sure everything was okay-and making a mental note to bring the car into the garage when he returned home--he filled the tank with gas and paid the clerk. Stepping outside, he took a moment to take everything in, to get into the right mind-set. The air felt sticky, clinging to his skin and weighing down his clothing. The collar of his shirt felt like it was choking him and he knew this was just a prelude to how he was going to feel for the rest of his stay here. He unbuttoned the top two buttons to let in air and shook his head to clear it.

Ryan checked the clock on the dashboard. He'd been driving most of the day and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. It was too late to stop by the Cohens' house. The last thing he wanted to do was wake them up in the middle of the night, and he couldn't be sure that he wouldn't run into Seth. He definitely wasn't in the mood for that. He opted to stay the weekend at a hotel instead. Ignoring the hellacious groans from his stomach, he checked the rearview mirror before getting back onto the road. All he wanted to do was get to the hotel, check-in, order room service, and fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

The girl behind the desk winked at him, trying to be flirtatious, as she handed over the key to his room and told him to have a good night. Ryan tried to smile back, but the best he could manage was a low grunt. He remembered to ask for a seven a.m. wake-up call before he picked up his bags and caught the elevator, slipping in beside an elderly couple and a woman with an infant on her shoulder. Ryan pushed the button for his floor and ignored the sidelong glances from the other occupants. He wasn't in the mood to talk. And he was too tired to pretend.

Inside his room, Ryan set down his bag and flopped down on the bed. He sunk into the mattress and it cushioned the aches in his back. Closing his eyes, he reached for sleep, but it wouldn't come to him. Regretfully, he sat up and stretched out, popping his neck and rolling his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks he'd developed from being cooped up in a car for more than a few consecutive hours.

Retrieving his briefcase from a pile of his things he'd left at the bottom of the bed, Ryan took out a collection of blueprints and spread them out in front of him. There was nothing like work to take his mind off of the weekend's upcoming event. And still, even with the thrill he got from design, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering. Ryan stared at the papers in front of him until all he saw were lines that added up to nothing.

Deciding he wasn't going to get any work done, he curled up the blueprints into a tight cylinder and stuffed them back into the cardboard tube he'd pulled them out of. For someone who had been so concerned about eating on his way here, Ryan suddenly found his stomach rolling with nerves and the thought of food nauseating. Flicking on the television, he channel-surfed for a while before landing on an old episode of Three's Company. Three wasn't company, Ryan thought, three was a crowd.

Deciding that maybe watching TV wasn't the best idea, Ryan unbuttoned his shirt, taking it off, followed by his pants, and pulled back the covers on the bed. Clicking off the lamp, he settled into bed, rolling over and shutting his eyes.

When Ryan woke up, things didn't look any more promising than they had the night before. The wake-up call he'd expected at seven came thirty minutes late with a quavering apology. Ryan sighed. He brushed off the front desk clerk's apologies and told her it was okay. Did it piss him off that they couldn't even get the time right? Hell, yes! Did he want some poor kid -who looked fresh out of highschool-- to lose her job over it? Well, no, he didn't see how that would change things; he wasn't going to get those thirty minutes back.

He'd had a dream; a dream where his tongue hadn't stuck to the roof of his mouth and he was able to say all the right things. He'd finally gotten out all the right words. Seth had heard his thoughts and learned how much Ryan cared. Everything had been so easy, Ryan was never fooled to think he was awake.

There was a part of Ryan that felt relief that it had just been a dream, and another part that was disappointed. He shook both emotions off as he got out of bed. It would have been wrong for him to confess how he felt. Besides, he hadn't come back to cause problems.

When he tried to shower, the water couldn't quite get to the temperature he liked, it was too cold and then too hot, and that was frustrating, too. It gave him a real sense of how the weekend was going to go if he couldn't even count on little things like a wake-up call and warm water.

At the door to the Cohen house, Ryan stopped, hesitantly ringing the bell. There was always a moment, between the time he walked into the house and the very first words were exchanged in the foyer, when Ryan felt like a stranger. It was like the past seven or eight years had never happened and he was still that kid from Chino his lawyer had taken home for the night - just an outsider in their home, throwing off order. For a few precious seconds there was a mutual distrust, that maybe this time they weren't going to decide to love him and he was going to remain closed-off and distant.

Sandy answered the door, giant smile and extended hand, greeting Ryan the moment he stepped inside. "Ryan! We were expecting you last night."

Ryan took a moment to set his bags --containing a few things he'd brought for Kirsten and Sandy-- down and then took hold of Sandy's hand. "Yeah, no, I know. It was late. I didn't want to disturb you. I stayed in a hotel."

"A hotel?"

Ryan shifted his weight. He had forgotten that Sandy always looked him in the eye, that he meant everything he said. Not too many people were like that. At least not the people Ryan had come across in his brief lifetime. "Yeah, I think I'm just going to stay there for the rest of the weekend, if that's okay with you. I mean, my stuff's already there and everything."

"Nonsense," Sandy said, and put his arm around Ryan's shoulders, guiding him toward the kitchen.

"No, really."

"Ah, are you sure? We miss having you around. What, with Seth out on his own and you a few states away. Kirsten and I don't know what to do with ourselves!"

"I think it would be better-"

Sandy gripped Ryan tighter around the shoulders, pulling him closer. "Tell Kirsten I tried, at least. Although, if I couldn't convince Seth to stay here for a few days, I didn't expect to win you over." And that was another strange thing that he'd forgotten. Somehow Sandy always knew what Ryan was thinking. That was another reason staying at a hotel had been so appealing. It would cut down on uncomfortable run-ins with Seth.

"Honey, look who's here!"

"Ryan," Kirsten said, her voice so soft and motherly. Her arms were around him before he could even take in the sight of her. She smelled clean and a little floral as her hands smoothed down his back and she cupped the back of his head. He missed this. This moment of feeling like a child again, imagining it had always been her arms he'd fallen into in his youth when he'd scraped his knees or fallen off his bike. When she pulled away, he felt stupid for wanting to pull her back and hold on for another minute.

Kirsten looked over his shoulder as if she expected there to be someone standing there. "Where's Eric?"

Ryan looked at the floor. "Uh, actually, we broke up."

"Oh. I--"

He smiled - tried to, at least. "It's okay, it was mutual."

A long moment of silence followed. Neither Kirsten nor Sandy could meet his eyes. Kirsten kept desperately turning to look at Sandy and Sandy looked back with the same glazed look. Ryan smiled internally, it was like he was sixteen again and had just broken up with Marissa.

Ryan "came out" to the Cohens the week after he graduated. He never told them about Seth. The only people who knew were Summer and Anna. And, of course, Marissa, but she'd taken their secret to her grave.

Sandy and Kirsten were supportive. Maybe a little too supportive as two liberal hippies. They were okay, really. Just a little too polite at first, stumbling over their words and trying not to look uncomfortable. Sandy had broken the tension with some lame jokes about the pool house and girls and Kirsten being flustered. Ryan didn't hear much of it, but laughed along while he watched Seth's mouth pinch and his eyes harden. Seth had locked out that intimate year they had spent together or pretended it had never happened all together. Ryan wasn't sure which. He just knew that when Seth looked at him, it was never with the same eyes. They were blank and critical.

They lost touch after that. Not really, though. Because it was easy enough to see Seth when he wanted. All he needed was an excuse to visit Sandy or Kirsten -Seth still came for dinner at least three times a week. It made no sense to Ryan since Kirsten wasn't famous for her cooking and take-out was more often than not what they ate. He guessed Seth didn't like to be alone. But who did, really?

Ryan decided it was up to him to break the tension. "So, uh, how are things?"

"Great. Thing are great," Kirsten replied, beaming.

Ryan felt the tension slip away. He didn't feel like a stranger anymore. Kirsten's smile always did that to him. She was so willing to give of herself, so receptive to him and his way of life. She had given him his life and he remembered it every time she looked at him like that. You couldn't fake a smile like that.

Catching up in the Cohen living room, Ryan had lost all track of time. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he couldn't believe it was so late. Standing, he grabbed his jacket. "I still haven't gotten them a gift."

Sandy checked his watch. "You'd better go; the store is going to close soon."

"Yeah, I'm sorry to rush out-"

Sandy and Kirsten were on their feet, following him. "Oh, wait," Kirsten said. She skirted down the hall and came back with a canvas bag. "Could you do me a big favour and drop this off at the hall? It's just got some things in it for tonight. I'd bring it myself, but Dad needs me at the office." Ryan took the bag from Kirsten and nodded. It was the least he could do. They both waved to him as he drove off.

* * *

Leave it to Summer to pick the most expensive, out of the way place in all of Newport. Ryan trudged up and down the aisles looking for something to buy within his price range. Just because he worked for some uppity architectural firm now, it didn't mean he was making big money. If one of the men that worked there hadn't taken pity on him and taken him under his wing, Ryan would still be doing nothing but making coffee and sorting the mail. He was basically doing all the work that no one else wanted to do, like dealing with scope-of-work issues, helping to format schedules and assisting with bids and budgets. He didn't mind so much. The hours were long, but he liked being in the thick of things, figuring out how things worked from the ground up. Steadily, he had been gaining the trust of his co-workers, and they were starting to offer him more complex tasks. He was comforted by the fact that he had a future with the firm, that eventually he'd get to the place he wanted to be. Still, it didn't make budgeting any easier, especially when Summer had registered at a store that charged twenty-seven dollars for a single wine glass.

It was when he was trying to decide between a bone china tea pot and a waffle iron that he felt a tap on his shoulder.

A voice accompanied the hand on his shoulder. "What did you get them?"

He recognized the voice instantly. It had been a long time. Too long. Ryan turned around so fast, he nearly caused himself whiplash. "Anna!"

She had let her hair grow out and it was stylishly pulled up into a pin, the rest falling in wisps around her face. She wasn't a girl anymore, she was a woman. A beautiful woman, at that. Ryan swallowed her in a hug, her slim body curving into his.

"Hey, Ryan," she said, pulling away.

Ryan smiled. He didn't know why, but if felt really good to see a familiar face, to see Anna,

specifically, in this store filled with nothing else that was familiar. He'd always been able to mould himself to fit any situation, but he was going to have to be pretending for the rest of the weekend and he couldn't quite muster up the energy to do that now. "You're, uh..."

Anna smiled. "Here for the wedding. Summer invited me."

Ryan nodded. Although they had been in touch since Anna moved back to Pittsburgh, with his schedule at work, it had been months since they'd had a real conversation. "That's, that's really good."

"Sooo I was thinking about going with the toaster, what do you think?" She was holding up a four-slice toaster, cocking her head to the side, waiting for his answer.

Ryan read the brief description on the front of the box - toasters had come a long way it seemed. "Good choice. You can never have too much toast."

"You sound like Seth," Anna said, her mouth turned up in a smile.

Ryan brushed off the comparison. "Nah, not really."

"So, this wedding, it's a pretty big deal, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess." Seth and Summer were going to be married in three days. It was more than a "pretty big deal," it was a monumental mistake.

Anna was looking at him in that way she sometimes did, like she could read his true feelings simply by the slightest twitch of his mouth. "And you're okay with everything?"

"Sure, sure," Ryan said, turning to continue his evaluation of the tea pot and waffle maker. He spared a quick glance at her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno. The double 'sure' kinda gives you away. I know it's not really my business, but it's just that, well, you and Seth-"

Ryan faced her. "I know where you're going, Anna, and I really don't want to go there."

Falling in love with Seth had been the easy part. It had surprised Ryan, at first, when he realized that he loved Seth. Somewhere he'd missed the signs. Between all the grand gestures and nonsensical speech patterns, Seth had slipped inside his head, into his heart, quietly. It was a gradual thing, falling in love with Seth. Or so Ryan had always thought, but maybe... maybe that morning after Sandy had taken him home and Seth's eyes had connected with his, and he could see the starving need there, maybe that's when he really fell.

Unfortunately for Ryan, Seth wasn't nearly as clear of his feeling when it came to love. If Seth had the emotional tools to deal with his own burgeoning feelings things might have turned out differently.

Anna nodded, ready to let the subject drop. "Okay, I can respect that."

Things were awkward now. Ryan attempted to shift gears. "So, uh, how are you?"

"Good, good." She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Well, you know how it is."

Ryan shook his head, smirking. "We're hopeless."

"Yeah, maybe just a little. When did life get so complicated?"

That was the question, wasn't it? "I don't know."

Anna gently pushed him. "Okay, we can't not talk about it."

Ryan faced her. He hadn't planned on a heart-to-heart in the middle of the store. "I know."

"So, Best Man, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know what he was thinking." Moving her hair behind her ear, she bit her lip, keeping her eyes locked on his.

Ryan looked at the floor. "It's Seth, sometimes he just doesn't."

Getting an invitation to the wedding was a surprise, being asked to be Seth's Best Man was a practical joke. At least he thought that at the time, until he got a nervous phone call from Seth a few weeks ago begging Ryan to be there. Ryan couldn't say no. Despite knowing it was inevitable, the first feeling he had, when he agreed to come home and had a chance let it all sink in, was abandonment.

Anna was hugging the toaster to her side and her eyes were still locked on him. She shifted her weight. "How're you going to just, like, stand there and watch? I think I'm going to have a hard time and I only dated him for, like, a minute in highschool."

"I guess I'll just- actually, I don't know. I guess I have to, right?"

"Maybe you can get out of it."

Ryan had considered that. He'd thought of at least a hundred different excuses over the past week-and-a-half but the truth was, he sort of wanted to be here. He wanted to see Seth. And he wanted... What? To prove Seth was making a mistake? Maybe. He just wanted Seth to be sure ...and he wanted closure. "No, I-I can't do that to Seth. And what about Sandy and Kirsten? What would they think? I can't do that to them after all they've done for me."

"They still don't know?" Anna's eyes were wide.

"I don't think they have a clue. I mean, why would they? It's not like we went around telling people."

"What about when they visited you up at school?"

Ryan shrugged. "We acted like friends, brothers, whatever."

"Why _didn't_ you ever tell them?"

"It wasn't up to me. I mean, they're not my parents. It was up to Seth."

"I guess you're right." Her tone was even and they both knew it was a pathetic excuse.

Ryan returned his attention to the shelf in front of him. Looking at Anna would only allow her to see what he wanted to hide. She could see right through him when she wanted to.

"I should go," she said after a minute. "I've got a million things to do before tonight. I'll catch _you _later."

Ryan looked up and gave her a small wave. "Yeah, see you."

Anna started to walk away but she stopped in the middle of the aisle and turned toward him. "Hey, Ryan?"

Ryan looked up. "Yeah?"

"Get the waffle iron. Seth'll like it." And with that she walked away.

When Ryan got to the hall, he wasn't surprised by the magnitude of it. Summer had always had a flare for the dramatic, and this place, with its high vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows, was nothing if not dramatic.

People were bustling in and out, setting up for tonight. The flowers--pink hydrangeas--looked liked giant globes. Big, beautiful, decadent bouquets sat in the centre of each table. The hall smelled of fresh paint, cleaning solution and chocolate souffle. The doors were open, allowing the room to air out, and huge fans sat at the four corners of the room to help disperse the smell. The last thing they needed was to have guests fainting into their soup.

Everything was pink and white. The table cloths, the name cards, even the Guest Book. And this was just for the rehearsal dinner. It was unbelievable. Ryan could barely imagine what the actual wedding was going to look like.

Perfect. It was going to be perfect. At least, perfect for Summer. There wasn't a touch of Seth in the room.

Setting down the canvas bag on a counter, Ryan took one last look and walked out.


	2. Like Old Times?

Thank you joey51 and mel39 for being awesome betas and putting up with me.

**Like Old Times?**

* * *

Ryan took the drive back to the house slower than normal. At a stoplight he looked to the seat beside him and the waffle iron sat there mocking him. Anna was right. How the hell did Seth expect Ryan to stand up at the alter beside him while he watched Seth make a commitment to spend the rest of his life with someone who wasn't, and would never be, him. 

At the house, Ryan almost knocked on the door, but walked inside instead, remembering the multiple times Sandy and Kirsten had told him that this _was, _and,_ would always be_, his home, and that there was no need to knock. At least _some_ of the Cohens had made a lifelong commitment to him.

Ryan found Kirsten and Sandy seated at the table in the kitchen. Kirsten was clutching Kleenex in her hand and her eyes were red and puffy. Ryan's heart dropped. Before he could speak, Kirsten did. Her voice was shaky. "The tailor dropped off your tuxedo. I put it in the pool house for you."

"Okay, great," Ryan said, uncertain. He looked to Sandy for help. "I guess I'll just..."

"Excuse me." Kirsten got up from the table and brushed past him.

Ryan watched her go and then turned his attention to Sandy. His heart was pounding. Had Seth changed his mind? "Did something happen?"

Sandy chuckled airily. "She's just emotional. She can't believe her baby's getting married. She's been like this for weeks. I wouldn't be surprised if we go through a whole box of tissues during the ceremony."

"Oh," Ryan said, relieved...and disappointed. "I'm just gonna..." He pointed to the pool house.

"No, of course, go ahead. I probably should check on her anyway."

Opening the back door, Ryan took the familiar path to what used to be his room. Once inside, he couldn't help thinking the pool house had shrunk. It was like the time Seth came back from Portland and complained for a week that Kirsten hadn't just remodelled the living room, but had, in fact, made his room smaller just to mess with his head.

Seth.

They never should have gone to the same college. They never should have been roommates.

Ryan should have stayed in Chino where everything made sense. Worked in a factory, or become a mechanic --he'd always been good with his hands. Instead, he had gotten a top education and went on to become a successful architect -or he would be, eventually. Everyone at the office thought he had the perfect life. Little did they know that he hardly had a life at all. He spent most of his time alone or bouncing from failed relationship to failed relationship. After years of trying to find something to fill the void, he had nothing to show for it.

It wasn't like Ryan had never tried to forget Seth. He used to go out to dive bars, pick up a guy for the night, someone with curly hair or a sarcastic smile and screw him--sometimes right there, in the parking lot, if he was desperate enough. He fucked to forget the pain and when he couldn't forget, he fucked to remember it. It didn't matter, though. No matter how many random guys he went out and fucked, no matter how good it might have felt, it didn't mean anything. It didn't add up to the feelings he had when he was with Seth; those feeling he was trying so desperately to find in strangers. When he came, he always felt empty and disgusted -with himself, with Seth, with the entire situation. It was always Seth's name he called in the throes of passion, no one else's. Never anyone else.

Because they weren't Seth. And Seth was all he wanted.

He hated himself for doing it. Wanted to hate Seth, too, but couldn't find it in him. He could never hate Seth.

There were a few nights where he picked up the bottle and drank until he couldn't stand, couldn't see or think. But he didn't want to be like her. He didn't ever want to turn into his mother.

It had been years since his last cigarette but he desperately needed one now...

Because Seth was in the pool house, and he wasn't just here, he was _lying_ on the bed, eyes closed, breathing even, looking rumpled and hot as hell. Ryan, on the other hand, was finding it hard to breathe. After all this time, Seth still had that effect on him.

"Hey," Ryan whispered, kneeling, stretching his hand out toward Seth. He gently nudged his side. "Seth?"

When Seth did nothing, Ryan moved in closer and pushed against Seth's shoulder, his thumb grazing his neck. It had been a long time since he'd touched Seth and even though the contact was minimal, his fingers burned from the simple sensation of skin on skin. "Seth!"

Bleary-eyed, hair sticking out every which way, Seth jolted upright, nearly head butting Ryan in the process. "I didn't lose the ring!"

Ryan settled back, smirking. "Nightmare?"

"Huh?" Seth peered up at him through half-closed lids until recognition took over the glazed look on his face. "Dude, you're here! What time is it?" He wiped his eyes and shook out his torso, cracking his neck and making unpleasant popping sounds as he twisted his body into uncomfortable-looking angles. "God, this bed is comfortable."

Ryan looked at his watch. "It's after five."

"Are you serious?" Seth looked at his wrist, realized he wasn't wearing a watch and then grabbed Ryan's arm, staring at the time on the Swiss Army watch. Confirming the time, he dropped Ryan's hand and darted his eyes around the room, pushing his fingers through his hair and disrupting it further. "Oh man, Summer's going to kill me. Come on," he said, but made no attempt to get up, "we're supposed to meet her at the hall for the rehearsal dinner."

"I have to try on the tux first." Ryan stood, grabbing the plastic-covered hanger Kirsten had carefully laid over one of the wicker chairs.

"Oh, yeah. Do that. I'm just going to rest my eyes for a few more minutes." Seth pointed absently toward the bathroom, lowering himself back onto the mattress and curling up. Ryan hated how dishevelled and quaint Seth looked --it reminded him of the many times he'd come home from class to find Seth passed out in his bed, books scattered across the floor, and of the many inventive things he'd done to wake Seth up. But that was ancient history and it would serve him well to remember that.

In the small bathroom, Ryan set the hanger on the back of the door and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. Seeing Seth never got any easier. Or rather, seeing Seth and not being able to touch him, never got any easier. It wasn't like Ryan wanted to ravage him on his old bed-okay, so he _did_ want to do that-but, more than anything, he just wanted to be able to hold him for a minute and simply ask why it felt so right; ask Seth, why couldn't he see how right there were for each other?

Shoving the feelings down, Ryan took off his clothes and redressed himself in the tux. Walking out of the bathroom, he was surprised to find Seth sitting up, waiting for him.

"Big pimpin', huh? How come you look so much better in a tux than I do?"

"Because I actually weigh in the triple digits."

"Are you saying I'm skinny? I'll have you know that I lift weights now. Big ones...or heavy ones. Whatever."

Ryan smiled. "Sure." Walking over to the mirror on the opposite side of the room, he gave himself a once over, stretching to make sure it fit, and then slipped off the tuxedo jacket. He hadn't bothered with the tie. He was midway back to the bathroom when Seth's words stopped him.

"Hey, how come you didn't tell me about Eric?" Seth's eyes couldn't quite meet Ryan's.

Ryan shrugged. "There's not much to tell."

"Yeah, but you guys were like, you know, whatever... and now you're not?"

"Yeah. Things just didn't work out."

"Oh."

Ryan looked at Seth and he could almost see his thoughts scrolling past like a ticker tape. He offered no further explanation and promptly excused himself to go change.

This conversation was at least going better than their last. The last time Ryan had shown up at the Cohens with Eric in tow, they'd exchange pleasantries and not much else -- Ryan had introduced Eric and Seth promptly found an excuse to leave. Ryan didn't dwell on it. He didn't like thinking about the possibility of what it could have meant. Because it could have meant any number of things. It could have meant that Seth still wasn't over Ryan, that it hurt to see him with someone else. It could have meant that Seth was jealous. It could have meant there was still hope for them. Or...it could have meant nothing at all.

Ryan maintained that they never should have gotten drunk that one night to celebrate Ryan's first A. Because all those things: going to the same school, moving in together, drinking, hugging, they all led to something that they couldn't take back. All those things built to one moment, leading them to that solitary second where Seth leaned in and Ryan didn't stop him.

If they hadn't done any of those things, Ryan wouldn't know what it was like to love someone who he could never be with.

Because it hadn't just be a one-time thing. It had gone on for an entire year. An entire year of being a couple. An entire year of sleeping in the same bed. An entire year of loving each other. An entire year before Seth changed his mind, decided he needed some time, some space.

It was the night of Marissa's final attempt at suicide that it happened. That was the night Seth finally ended things. Only Marissa was capable of still fucking up his life from the grave. Maybe if she hadn't succeeded, things would have turned out different. Maybe Seth wouldn't have packed up his stuff and moved back into his old bedroom across the hall. Maybe Ryan wouldn't have given up so easily.

The quiet times were the worst. Seth didn't talk - not to Ryan, at least. And Ryan pulled even deeper into himself, becoming a shadow in the apartment they shared. It confirmed to Ryan that letting other people be privy to his thoughts was just an open invitation to hurt him. If the days were long, the nights were longer. For a while their only communication was from notes tacked onto the fridge or left on the counter.

Ryan watched as Seth let Summer back into his life, comforting her when she was consumed with grief.

He watched them as they "fell in love" all over again.

Summer, when she stayed over, could barely look at Ryan. It might have been guilt that made her eyes harden and her back go up, but Ryan suspected it was suspicion more than anything. If they were ever alone together, the small apartment always seemed smaller somehow, like the walls were caving in on them. Seth had made up his mind and there wasn't anything either one of them could do about it. Ryan tried to talk to her, tried to reason, but Summer had finally gotten what she wanted and was so afraid, just as Ryan had been, of losing the thing she'd just gotten back. Not that Seth was a thing to be passed around... Summer was never mean, not really, just distant. Cold and, sometimes, rude. Ryan couldn't blame her; he understood what was at stake. He'd had Seth and lost him.

Eventually, Ryan transferred schools and moved two states away. He couldn't bear to sit across the dinner table and pretend everything was okay, pretend he was okay, anymore.

He expected Seth to be gone when he came out, but he was still in the room, this time planted on one of the wicker chairs, watching him.

"You're still here?" Ryan said before he could stop himself.

"Yeah. Summer dropped me off earlier; you know how I feel about driving. Do you think you can you give me a lift to the hall?"

Despite knowing it was a bad idea, Ryan had to help. It was who he was. "I'll drop you off. I still have to change and my stuff's back at the hotel."

"Yeah, that's cool."

"Come on." Ryan led them around the side of the house to his car. Unlocking his door, he got in and stretched across the seat to unlock the passenger side door.

Seth picked up the package in the passenger's seat to move it, but instead of moving it, he held it in his hands, fascinated. "Dude, a waffle iron!"

Ryan groaned. "That's your wedding present. Pretend you didn't see it."

"Sweet!" Seth said, continuing to examine it. Ryan plucked it from his hands and shoved it into the backseat, giving Seth a stern look. "Oh, I mean, already forgotten."

* * *

Ryan could feel Seth looking at him in the humming quiet, watching his face painted neon from the scant dashboard light. He kept his eyes on the road and his hands on the steering wheel, refusing to acknowledge the change in atmosphere. 

There were more important things to worry about, like the funny noise Ryan's car was making. The engine was sputtering and the controls were slowly dying. Everything was only partially working until the car groaned and then refused to move.

"The car stopped."

Ryan spared an annoyed glance at Seth. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious."

"It's what I do," Seth said, content and maybe even a little mocking.

Ryan was not finding the situation quite so amusing. The engine wouldn't turn over despite his efforts to get it to start. He just knew something was going to go wrong. And now they were stuck. Alone. Together. It was the very situation Ryan had wanted to avoid.

"I think you killed it, dude. Hey, look, there's a service station right up there. Now that's convenient."

Pulling the key out of the ignition, Ryan curled the keys up in his fist, hardly noticing and not acknowledging, the pain as they dug into his palm. "We're going to have to get out and push."

"What now?"

Ryan sighed. He wasn't in the mood to have an argument. "It's not that far."

"Ryan, I don't think you understand. If I get dirty pushing your car, Summer is going to go postal. She might even have a rage blackout and that's something I would _definitely_ like to avoid."

"It's not even two blocks away," Ryan said, already getting out on his side of the car. Seth grudgingly got out.

With their doors open, they pushed from opposite sides of the car. Ryan looked over the top at Seth. It felt like he was doing all the work and if he knew Seth, he was. "Come on, Seth, can't you put some muscle into it?"

Seth stopped pushing all together and stood up straight. "Did you forget who you were talking to? What would make you think I had any muscle?"

Ryan stopped too, leaning his arm against the roof of the car. "I thought you lifted weights now?"

"I may have embellished. But I think I'm much stronger now than I was in high school."

"No, yeah, you're right."

"Right that I'm stronger now?"

"No," Ryan said, getting back to the task at hand, "right that you embellished a little...or a lot."

"Ha ha! Funny!" Seth exclaimed. "You're a funny guy, Ryan, anyone ever tell you that?"

Groans and grunts accompanied them the rest of the way to the service station, where Seth nearly tripped over his feet after doubling over from exhaustion. He got back into the car and sat down, closing his eyes. That was Seth, always dramatic. Ryan felt a pain in his gut. Fuck, he missed him.

Ryan leaned against the car, regaining his breath. The yellow glow of the gas station sign was blinking "open" against his back, almost like a beacon.

Ryan ducked his head into the car through the open window. "I'm going to talk to the guy about fixing the car and get some things. You need anything?"

Seth, having apparently regained some energy, opened his eyes and looked at Ryan. "Um, actually, I think I'll go in with you."

"Suit yourself."

Seth got out of the car and followed Ryan inside the small convenience store beside the garage. Ryan went to the back to talk to someone about fixing the car while Seth roamed around. Ryan had just finished talking to the mechanic when Seth shoved a taco in his face.

"Remember these?"

Ryan pushed Seth's hand away, the smell calling up memories as well as a sick feeling in his stomach. "You kidding me, man? We practically lived off of them that first year of college."

They laughed together until Ryan's brain fixated on what he'd just said. His laughter died off. They never talked about college and Ryan wondered if it had hit Seth the same way. When he looked at him, though, Seth was still smiling and didn't seem to be dwelling on it. Ryan felt relief.

Seth eyed the taco, a cheap no-name variety they sold in places like this and smelled it. "Actually, I think I'm going to get a couple. I'm starved."

"Won't there be food at the hall?"

"Yeah, but it's all fancy stuff. You know, little dainty finger foods with, like, cucumbers and radishes and watercress, things like that. Girly food. These tacos?"

Ryan quirked his eyebrow. "Uh, let me guess: manly food?"

"Now you're catching on!"

"I don't think Summer will appreciate you landing in the E.R. the night before your wedding."

Seth looked at Ryan, confused. "Food poisoning," he elaborated.

"Ah, ye of little faith. I'll have you know that I don't have nearly the weak stomach I used to have. Yeah, I've sort of built up an immunity from all of Summer's bad cooking - uh, don't tell her I said that, by the way."

Ryan moved to the back of the store and got himself a bottle of water. He followed Seth up to the register, waited for Seth to pay, and then set down his water and a pack of gum.

"Is that all?" the clerk asked.

"No, uh, can I get a pack of Marlboro Lites?"

Ryan could feel Seth's disapproval bleeding through the back of his shirt where his eyes were affixed. "I thought you quit," he said, clucking his tongue.

Ryan ignored Seth and handed the clerk a twenty-dollar bill.

They went outside to wait for the car to be ready. Ryan found a lip of concrete to sit on. Seth had followed and taken a seat next to him. They were so close Seth's elbow kept nudging him in the side. Seth had never quite learned the idea of personal space, but Ryan didn't mind too much right now.

When Ryan began to unwrap the packaging around his cigarettes, Seth let his disapproval be known. "So, you're smoking again?"

Ryan ignored his question. He didn't need Seth's approval. He was a grown-up and would do whatever the hell he wanted. "Maybe you should call someone to pick you up. The car could take a while to be fixed."

"Ryan, answer me."

Ryan shrugged, not wanting to discuss it. "What's it to you?"

"Dude, didn't you learn anything from The Nana? She got cancer from those, remember that?"

Ryan shook his head, pocketing the cigarettes. "Seth, just--"

"No, seriously. I should tell on you. She's going to be there tonight, you know."

Ryan looked at Seth incredulously. Was he really threatening to tell on him? "You're going to tell on me? What're you, six?"

Seth nodded. "Yeah, well, maybe I am, but at least I'm not afraid of The Nana. You're afraid of her, aren't you?"

"No." That was just stupid. He wasn't afraid of The Nana...not much, anyway.

"Yeah, yeah you are," Seth accused, pointing his finger at Ryan.

"I am not!"

Seth's lips were turned up in a smug smirk and his eyes were shining with laugher and the only thing Ryan wanted to do was pull him closer and ravish his mouth. It would shut him up, but it would be wrong and it would ruin the gentle teasing atmosphere they had established. Still, he had to restrain himself.

"You should see your face right now; you're totally freaking out."

Ryan could only imagine what he looked like. "I am not freaking out. Stop acting like we're still in high school."

Seth sobered. He tilted his head to the side. "Ryan, I'm serious."

"So am I," he said. Ryan's eyes hardened.

"Smoking's so bad for you. Why would you do that to yourself?"

Seth's concern was genuine, and that, more than anything, pissed Ryan off. Seth shouldn't be allowed to get to him. Ryan shouldn't care what Seth thought. But he did. "Look, I appreciate the concern but it's really none of your business anymore."

"Look, just because- It's not like..."

Ryan knew if he prodded him enough, Seth would just let it go and move on. "What?"

Seth struggled to find the right words. "Just because we're not- It doesn't mean--"

"Come on, spit it out."

Seth gave up just as Ryan predicted. "All right, man, do what you want. It's your life." The silence was heavy, broken only when Seth began to unwrap his tacos and noisily chew. "Hooh, hot!" Seth waved his hand in front of his mouth, and Ryan tried to suppress his laughter. Seth could be such an idiot sometimes. Such an incredibly cute, asinine idiot. Reaching inside his pocket, Ryan found a napkin and handed it over.

"Thanks," Seth grumbled. After a beat. "Could I maybe--"

Ryan didn't wait for him to continue before passing over his bottle of water.

* * *

The car took an hour and three-hundred dollars to fix. Ryan thought that was a little steep, but he didn't have time to check over the work, what with Seth chewing his ear off about Summer and how badly she was going to murder him. When he started planning out his own funeral, Ryan had to physically extract himself from the situation before he killed Seth himself. 

Seth hadn't called anyone to pick him up and, even though Ryan found it odd, he hadn't really minded the time they were forced to spend together. It was almost like old times...before they went off to college and everything changed.

Ryan pulled up to the hall, expecting Seth to immediately jump out of the car and maybe, if he was lucky, get a "thanks" as he ran inside. Instead, Seth sat there staring at the windshield.

"We're here," Ryan pointed out, after a minute of prolonged silence.

"Yeah, I know. I was just thinking."

Ryan was losing patience. If Seth had one more thing to say about the ways in which Summer was going to strangle him, Ryan was going to deck him. "Seth, it's getting late. Your Mom and Dad, Summer, they're all probably worried."

"Yeah, I know, you're right."

Ryan sighed. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh? Uh, no. I'm fine. Thanks for the ride."

Ryan nodded.

Seth finally exited the car, but held onto the door and ducked his head back inside. "Hey, Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming, and you know, being my Best Man and everything."

Ryan found it hard to swallow. "Yeah, it's no problem."


	3. Rehearsal Dinner

Much thanks to mel39 and joey51 for being completely great betas. Also, props to joey for working through Seth's schooling choices with me. All mistakes are mine.

**Rehearsal Dinner**

* * *

Ryan took his time getting ready. The less amount of time he had to spend listening to a room full of people congratulating Seth and Summer, the better. The drive over was too fast and he took a moment to himself, in the parking lot, to breathe. Perhaps it was that he hated talking to people he didn't know and didn't care to know, or that he preferred the quiet above everything else, and there was too much noise echoing throughout the hall, but Ryan really just wanted to find an escape route. 

It was Seth who spotted him first, wrapping a hand over his shoulder and dragging him across the room. Most people made the mistake of seeing Seth as an even, straightforward person. They were wrong to assume that. There were a lot of different versions of Seth. This version of Seth, with his arm just brushing Ryan's collar and his voice a little too high, was very different from the quiet, unsure person who had been in Ryan's car not more than a few hours ago. Everyone wore masks. Sometimes even Seth wore them. "Hey, man, I'm _so_ glad you're here. Summer's trying to get us to wear pink ties for the wedding, you _have_ to talk her out of it."

Seth's hand dropped from around him and Ryan felt the loss almost instantly. "It's just a tie; does it really matter what colour it is?"

"Yes. Yes, Ryan, it does. You know what happens on the wedding day? Yeah, that's right, they take pictures. Ten years from now, when she pulls out those photos, I'm going to have to look at us in our stupid pink ties! " Seth was animated as he tried to get his point across. Sometimes he was a lot like those comic books he used to spent so much time and money on. Ryan sometimes pictured word bubbles above Seth's head when he got this way. "Look, there she is.Do me a favour and talk her out of it?"

Ryan gave Seth a sidelong glance. "What!" Sometimes Seth was a lot more like Jughead than a real Superhero. It was no wonder Seth had chosen the career path he had.

When Ryan and Seth's final year of highschool approached, everyone rallied together to decide what Seth should study in school. Seth's only ambition was, "to create a comic book so superior, DC and Marvel would look like silly little propaganda fliers." Caleb thought Seth should take business classes to prep himself to take over the Newport Group and continue the Nichol empire one day. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Seth was a Cohen through-and-through and that the idea of taking over the Newport Group was as appealing as joining the water polo team and shaving what little chest hair he had. Sandy thought it would be nice if Seth became a lawyer, but everyone knew Seth was too fragile for that. Kirsten always thought Seth would make a good doctor-hands of a surgeon, and all-but Seth couldn't even stand the sight of blood. Ryan just thought Seth should do something he loved. Somewhere along the way, it was decided that Seth would make a fine accountant.

No one had been surprised when it didn't work out; Seth was never destined for something so rigid. Seth went to school and didn't complain as much as would be expected. There were the occasional grumbles of, "the devil is an unbalanced account," or, "is it possible to die from boredom?" but, other than that, Seth was content. Ryan, even as he struggled through his own gruelling classes, believed that the reason they were both so happy was because they had each other... And even if it only proved to be true for one year, it was still the best year of Ryan's life.

It only took one term for Seth to get tired of all the boring classes he was taking and switch his major to art. Mostly, though, Seth lounged around in a bathrobe, scribbling in a sketch book, or turning the living room into a variable art gallery, and occasionally wrote a paper or two. The smell of turpentine still brought back memories for Ryan. Seth was gifted with this innate ability to bullshit his way through any test and that was what kept him afloat when he should have failed.

Sandy and Kirsten had insisted that Seth finish school, so he had something to fall back on, but Seth always knew what he wanted to do. After he graduated, Seth had taken a large chunk of his trust fund and started up his own independent comic book company. It was a good outlet for him. Kirsten always sent Ryan a copy in the mail. Ryan had all the issues framed. They hung all over his apartment. Sometimes he found them comforting, other times, they just made him feel more alone. Despite everything that had happened between them, Ryan was proud of Seth for following his dreams; he was proud that at least one thing in Seth's life made him happy. Ryan wasn't sure about the rest. The hall, the flowers, the tiny pastries-hell, even the wedding-didn't feel like Seth. It was too flashy and decadent. It was everything that Seth had grown up hating. Ryan couldn't figure it out.

The last thing Ryan wanted was a confrontation with Summer. He didn't have time to get away, though; Summer was headed straight for them.

"Summer!" Seth called, waving her over. "Look, Ryan's here." Seth gave Ryan a little push forward. Ryan nearly tripped and he turned back to scowl at Seth.

"Ryan," Summer said, plain and holding so little warmth, it make his blood curdle. She opened her arms to hug him.

Ryan awkwardly stumbled into her embrace and then pulled away seconds later.

"Thanks for coming," she said and shifted her weight.

He wasn't really sure how he was supposed to feel about Summer. Was he supposed to hate her for taking away the one thing he had treasured most? Or was he supposed to respect her for the person she was and pretend to be happy? By now they were all so good at pretending. If Seth noticed the awkwardness, he didn't say anything.

"Ryan, here, has something to say about the pink ties," Seth said. He elbowed Ryan.

"Uh, yeah, right. Look, Summer-"

Summer scrunched up her nose. "Pink ties? Cohen, stick with it! I can't have pink ties that clash with the bridesmaids' dresses."

"What? But you just said-"

Summer wasn't listening. She was fixated on Ryan. "Ew, what is up with your hair? You can _not_ be in my wedding with that hair. I'm going to make you an appointment at the salon. I'm sure they can find _something_ to do with it."

Ryan sighed. "My hair is fine."

"Fine! It looks like you were just licked by a goat. Look at it!" she said, reaching for Ryan's hair. Ryan ducked out of the way. "Tell him, Cohen. Tell him he has a goat-lick."

Seth's lips were pinched together as he patted Summer's shoulder. "I think you mean cowlick, sweetie."

"Whatevs. Talk some sense into him while I go talk to Pedro."

And with that, she turned on her heels and walked in a zigzag pattern, seemingly searching for someone.

"Who's Pedro?"

Seth scratched behind his ear and shrugged. "I dunno. The wedding planner, I think. Forget about that, though." Seth rubbed his hands together. "Now that the tie thing has been resolved, let's talk bachelor party!"

"No strippers!" Summer yelled over her shoulder.

"How the hell...?" Seth lowered his voice. "See, it's starting already."

"What is?"

"The sacrificing! This is it, man. She's already trying to change me."

"Uh-huh." Ryan couldn't help feeling cheated. The entire conversation felt so superficial.

"Just last week, she asked me when was I going to get a grown-up pair of shoes. I mean, what's wrong with my shoes?"

"I dunno." Ryan's eyes automatically dropped to Seth's feet. Simple Converse sneakers. Seth used to kick them off wherever he felt like it when they lived together. He missed tripping over those shoes.

"Exactly, I've worn the same brand of shoe since I was, like, six!"

Ryan shrugged. "They're just shoes."

"Yeah, Ryan, they are just shoes. But that's not the point, is it? First it's the shoes, what next, you know? This is what marriage is, Ryan: punishment!"

* * *

Rehearsal was long and boring. Summer and Seth had decided on a dual faith wedding. It was the oddest mix of Judaism and Christianity Ryan had seen since his introduction into Chrismukkah. Ryan watched Seth shift his feet back and forth, fiddle with anything within arm's reach, stuff his hands in his pockets, hum under his breath, basically anything distracting. And the worst part was, he didn't even seem to know he was doing any of those things. It wasn't until the Rabbi and Minister got caught up talking and Summer smacked his chest that he stood still for longer than five seconds. He was never going to make it through the ceremony tomorrow. Ryan shouldn't have found it amusing, but he did. 

Later, after everyone had learned where to stand and what to say, they moved into the larger room, where tables had been set up earlier in the day, for dinner. Ryan still found all the pink disconcerting. The first guests came in and Ryan stood listening to people he didn't know, talk about things he could care less about. Ryan, heeding Seth's threats, avoided The Nana like the plague. There was no way he could sit through an hour-long lecture with her and walk away guilt-free. Because even though Ryan wasn't Jewish, living with the Cohens had taught him something about Jewish guilt. Seth used to joke that they were like Rogue and Wolverine and that somehow Seth had transferred the guilty feelings, he'd been fostering since birth, onto Ryan. And even if it made absolutely no sense and was impossible without life-force stealing skin and freaky regenerative powers-not that those things actually existed in real life, but the way Seth talked about them, it was like he believed they could-Ryan liked to believe that it was possible to have absorbed something from the Cohens, even if it made him the girl in the situation.

Across the room, Summer was talking to Kirsten. They both looked so happy, like they already fit. Ryan brushed the jealousy aside. Logically, he knew Summer wasn't taking his place, but, still, there was something festering inside him, like his whole world was starting to unravel in front of him and no one had taken notice.

Kirsten looked up, caught his eye, and smiled. Ryan leaned against the wall as she approached.

In the months that followed Ryan's move, he thought of giving up the Cohens. It seemed like the right thing to do. They were Seth's family, after all, not his. Not really, anyway. But then, what would he be without them? He didn't have ties to anyone else. Trey was back in jail. Dawn was drying out...again. And his father was nowhere to be found. Even when he did try to give up the Cohens, they never gave up on him. Kirsten kept calling and didn't stop until she got him on the phone and they had a long talk about nothing at all.

When Ryan finally got up the nerve to tell the people closest to him that he was gay, Kirsten was the first person that still looked at him like she always had, even after the big reveal. There was no change in her eyes, even if her mouth struggled for the briefest of seconds to form words.

"Ryan," Kirsten said and pulled him into a careful hug. Ryan savoured the contact.

"Seth told us about the car trouble. Sandy and I were talking and if you need a new car-"

"No, Kirsten, it's fine. Really."

"I know you don't like taking things from us, but we're your family and you need a good car." The concern in her eyes was genuine and oddly reassuring.

"My car is okay. It gets me around. It's safe. I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure."

It had taken Ryan a long time to come to terms with how much influence Kirsten and Sandy had on his life. It had taken him even longer to accept how much he depended on and needed them. Ryan had never needed anyone before, but now he couldn't imagine life without them.

Kirsten smiled shyly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry I've been so emotional and haven't had the time to talk to you."

"It's understandable. Seth's getting married. It's kinda a big deal."

"There's that. I worry about you, you know." Her voice was thick with uncertainty, like maybe she was revealing too much. Kirsten never liked making herself vulnerable. It was one of the traits they shared.

At that moment, it affected Ryan more than it should have. Everything felt weighted and heavy. He wanted to tell her, to confide how much he was hurting, but that would only hurt _her_ and he couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair. "I know," he said, recovering.

They were both silent for a moment, absorbed in their own thoughts. A breeze blew in at them as someone opened the door and let in the night air. Kirsten wrapped her arms around herself and smiled again. "You're doing okay, though?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"And work?"

"Is good. I'm learning a lot."

Kirsten sighed. "I wish you were closer to home."

"Me, too."

"We could always use you at the Newport Group."

"Kirsten."

"No, I know, you have your own life now and I would never ask you to come back just for my own selfish purposes, but I miss you. Both of you."

"I miss you, too," Ryan said quietly, so only the two of them could hear. Ryan couldn't help noticing that Kirsten looked tired. He cleared his throat. "So, uh, how are the cooking classes going?"

"Not so well."

"That bad, huh?"

"Let's just say Typhoon isn't coming off speed dial any time soon. I'm afraid Sandy and I are destined to a life of take-out."

The silence that followed was laced with something Ryan couldn't pinpoint. It wasn't tension. It was something else.

Ryan twisted his head ever so slightly. He watched Kirsten watching Seth. "I really _can't_ believe he's getting married. I guess I always thought-"

"What?"

Kirsten shook her head. "Nothing. Never mind. Sometimes things just don't turn out the way you expected." Summer was demanding her attention again. There was really no ignoring Summer when she needed something; Kirsten knew that. "I'd better..."

"No, go ahead. Don't want to keep her waiting."

"We'll talk later?"

The words stuck on his tongue. He nodded instead. He didn't know what it was that Kirsten would have said if she'd allowed herself to continue. Unlike Sandy, she'd always been more of a mystery, more of a challenge to understand. She could be thinking anything.

* * *

When he finally had a minute to himself to look around, Ryan spotted Anna immediately among all the guests. She waved him over. "Saved you a seat." 

"Thanks," he said and sat down next to her.

Leaning closer, she whispered, "Oh, and if anyone asks, you're my date."

"Okay, why?"

"See that guy over there talking to Summer's Dad?"

Ryan looked. He saw the man he recognized as Summer's father talking to a much shorter, pudgy man with black, thick-rimmed glasses. "Yeah."

"Before you got here, he was trying to impress me by telling me that he was a plastic surgeon and started pulling out wallet size pictures of the work he's done on the ladies of Newport."

Ryan took a second look. "He seems harmless."

"Boobs, Ryan! He showed me pictures of boobs! And, to top it off, he kept staring at my chest. Ick, makes my skin crawl just thinking about it. Why is it that I always attract the freaks? Anyway, when he started pulling his chair closer, I politely told him I was waiting for my boyfriend -which would be you, for right now."

She surprised a laugh out at him, even as he tried to suppress it. Though, he did manage to escape the wrath of her uncurled fist as he darted out of the way.

"It's not funny!"

"Except that it kind of is."

Anna relented, allowing a slow smile to spread across her lips and a soft blush to tint her cheeks. "Okay, so maybe it is. A little. Don't rub it in."

When Ryan looked back at Anna there was a question in her eyes. She was able to hold off asking for a full five minutes. "So, you're really not going to do anything?"

"What do you mean '_do anything_?'"

"To stop the wedding," she said, casually.

"That's not why I came here."

Anna crossed her arms and leaned forward. "I'm an observer, Ryan, and do you know what I've observed tonight?"

"I don't want to know."

Her eyes flickered somewhere above his head. "Do you know what Seth's looking at right now?"

"Anna."

"You," she said, smugly. "Same as he's been doing for the last half-an-hour. You don't stare at someone like that if-"

"Anna, please."

Anna's eyes softened and her mouth relaxed. "Okay, I won't say another word about it if that's what you want."

"That's what I want." Ryan took another look around. Even after all the years in Newport, going to fancy parties, Ryan still didn't like big crowds. "There's a lot of people here."

"Summer said something about Caleb and her father inviting all their business friends. She wasn't very happy about it."

Ryan nodded. "Oh." With every mention of Summer, Ryan's heart grew colder. He couldn't help it. He'd never been so conflicted in his life. He was getting so tired of keeping up the charade.

The minutes ticked by and as Ryan took a sip of water, he felt Anna's eyes burning into him. "I'm fine," he said, answering her unasked question.

"I know," she said, tilting her head to the side. "You know those pacts people make? The ones where in ten years if they're still single they agree to marry their best friend? I always thought those were so stupid, but in ten years we'll be pushing thirty-five and I don't want to go the rest of my life alone. So how 'bout it?"

Ryan choked on his water. He coughed and sputtered. Anna slapped him on the back. It took him a moment to find his voice. "You're proposing?"

She smiled. "No, I'm making a pact. In ten years I'll propose, get down on my knees and everything, if you want. But not until we're at least thirty-five."

Ryan raised his eyebrows. It was a strange thing to say. The entire exchange was strange, but then again, Anna had never been traditional in her approach of life. She knew how to keep things interesting. "Why thirty-five?"

Anna settled back in her chair, taking a moment to think about it. "I don't think we really have a good handle on ourselves until we're thirty-five. By then I'll know what I want and what I don't want. Or maybe I won't but by then I'll be bitter and disillusioned enough to marry a gay man and know that we won't ever love each other in a romantic way, but that we can still have sex and make babies and create a family. It'll be our choice and we won't really be settling." And that was Anna, full of sage wisdom and acerbic wit...and unconventional marriages, apparently.

Ryan looked at Anna through his eyelashes, tilting his head to the side. "I know that wasn't really meant to be comforting, but I find it oddly soothing to know I could have a fallback plan like that if nothing else works out in my life."

Anna grasped his shoulder, smiling. "Why be bitter alone, when we can be bitter together, right?"

Just as Ryan was about to respond, a loud, familiar voice interrupted him. "Hey, Chino!"

Ryan turned around in his seat. "Luke? What the hell...?"

Standing, Ryan shook Luke's hand. "It's been a long time, man."

"You remember Anna, right?"

"Oh yeah, yeah," Luke said, looking Anna up and down. "You look good." Maybe there wasn't going to be a need for their pact after all.

Ryan and Anna exchanged a look, but held in their laughter. "So, uh... "

Luke had cut his hair so it was short like the first time Ryan had ever met him... maybe met wasn't the right word. Bravado and confidence leaked off of him as he stood in front of Ryan and Anna. It felt familiar. Luke looked like he'd had a few cocktails already and that, too, was strangely familiar. Some people, at least, never changed. "Yeah, dude, Cohen invited me. So how the hell are you?"

"Good. You?"

"I'm cool, man. The bachelor party is gonna be off the hook!"

Ryan groaned internally. The bachelor party was not something he was looking forward to.


	4. Bachelor Party

Once again, joey51 and mel39 are owed my gratitude. Thanks.

**Bachelor Party**

* * *

Luke was drunk and his goal was to get everyone else to join him. It didn't seem to be a problem. Thank God Sandy and Caleb had opted not to come. Although it was the Best Man's responsibility to set up the bachelor party, Ryan had allowed Luke to partake in the planning. That had probably been a mistake. In fact, staring across the room through beer-goggles at half-a-dozen strippers, Ryan knew it was a mistake. But what was done was done. At least Summer couldn't blame him. His idea would have been to forget the whole thing, go back to his room and sleep through the wedding. 

At least they weren't too far away from Ryan's hotel. He could just walk back and crash when he got tired of pretending.

"A lime is a terrible thing to waste," Luke remarked, downing a shot and squeezing a ripe lime into his mouth. Shaking out his body like a wet dog, Luke's lips pursed together and he squinted. Recovering, he slapped Ryan on the back, pushing a shot toward him. "Come on, buddy, drink up!"

Ryan was a little tired of having a clear head, of thinking about and analysing everything. He picked up the drink, licked the salt off the back of his hand, downed the shot and sucked hard on the lime - the sourness supplementing the fiery sting of the tequila.

The sharp, hard beats coming out of the speakers were irritating. Ryan decided to have that cigarette he'd been craving since crossing into Newport Beach two nights ago. He stood off to the corner by himself, the top three buttons of his shirt undone, exposing a white wife-beater underneath, his tie hanging loosely from his neck. The smoke hung in the air and curled around him, encompassing him in a protective veil. Only Seth would think it was okay to invade his private moment. And only Seth did.

"Dude, why are you way over here? The party's over there, in case you hadn't noticed."

Ryan shrugged, taking another long drag. It filled his lungs and seemed to make things more bearable. "It's not exactly my thing."

Seth took a look behind him, saw Luke being mauled by three frisky dancers and smirked. "No, I guess not, huh?"

Feeling good and relaxed from the alcohol he'd consumed, Ryan took the time to look at Seth. Sometimes he wondered if Seth had ever discovered the truth of his own splendour. It wasn't just one thing, it was a combination of things that made Seth so magnificent. At first it was the innocence that Ryan was drawn to, but underneath that, there were layers of depth. And no one had ever been able to make Ryan laugh the way Seth did. There hadn't been a lot of laughter at all in his life, until Seth came along.

"So, you going to stay in the corner for the rest of the night?"

"That was my plan," Ryan said. "This all is a little much."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

Ryan tipped his chin. "Luke seems to be enjoying himself, at least."

"Yeah, well, it's strictly Pavlovian, dangle some breasts in front of his face and he starts salivating."

Ryan smirked. "You do realize Summer's going to kill you when she finds out about the strippers, right?"

Seth nodded, pulling his glass of beer away from his mouth. "I'm aware. Hopefully she'll never have to know. And, I mean, it's not like I've done anything really wrong. I've barely looked."

"Sure."

Alcohol had made conversation easier. Seth wasn't nearly as aloof or nervous. It was weird. There had been a time when all Ryan had to do was look at Seth to know how he was feeling, but a lot of time had passed and that skill had faded.

They fell into a rhythm of drinking and talking. Mostly, Seth talked while Ryan listened and smoked. Before they knew it, two hours had gone by and Seth was slurring his words and moving closer with each sip of beer.

Seth had let his head drop onto the bar. Ryan nudged him. Instinctively his head snapped up and Ryan moved out of the way just in time to avoid a collision. Rubbing his eyes, Seth half-turned, looking around. "Hey, where'd Luke go?"

Ryan tugged on his tie, pulling the knot until it came undone. "He took off about half-an-hour ago with one of the strippers."

"That guy hasn't changed much." Seth laughed. "Dude, I'm _so _wrecked! There's no way I can drive home like this."

Ryan butted out his cigarette, steadying Seth when he stumbled off the stool underneath him. "I can take you."

"No, man. I think I'm just going to get a room and crash. Besides, _you've_ been drinking too."

Ryan agreed and assisted him out of the bar.

The walk to the hotel Ryan was staying at, was fraught with stumbling and the compulsory stop to pee on the city street. Ryan stood guard while Seth urinated. The last thing they needed was to get caught by a cop and spend the night in jail for public intoxication. If Summer didn't hate Ryan enough already, that would definitely tip the scales. Not that Ryan really had any idea if Summer _actually_ hated him, but he knew she probably hated the _idea _of Seth spending time with him, at least.

In the lobby, Seth crashed into a potted plant so Ryan made him wait in a chair while he got him a room. In the five minutes it took Ryan to secure a room, Seth had curled up on the chair and begun to nod off. When Ryan kicked the heel of his shoe, Seth straightened out, nearly falling to the floor. "What!"

Ryan dangled the key in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, right." He dropped the key in Seth's hands. Seth struggled to stand and put the key into his pocket at the same time. Ryan grabbed him around the middle to keep him upright. "Thanks, buddy. I don't think this floor's even. It's totally, like, moving or something."

"Sure, Seth, it's the floor and not the tequila swimming inside your stomach."

"Hey, man, hey," Seth said. He smacked his forehead and was silent. As they waited for the elevator, Seth seemed to remember what it was he wanted to say. He tilted his head and tried to catch Ryan's eye. "You, maybe, wanna hang out for a bit, catch up?"

It was a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea. "Yeah...sure."

"Cool, let's go to your room."

Inside the elevator, Seth pushed every button except the one to their floor. Ryan waited patiently, holding Seth by the upper arm to keep him from falling, as the elevator pinged and stopped at each floor.

Inside the room, Ryan dumped Seth onto his bed and appraised the situation. "You need coffee."

"Yeah, coffee sounds good," Seth mumbled, struggling to turn himself over so he faced Ryan. "I should, maybe, phone Summer, let her know where I am." Getting the phone out of his pocket was another task Seth struggled with. Ryan hoped he at least dialled the right number.

"Good idea. Stay here and don't do anything stupid."

Ryan left Seth where he was. With any luck he would pass out by the time Ryan got back and they wouldn't have to talk at all.

Thankfully, the coffee shop across the road was open twenty-four hours a day. Ryan got coffee and hurried back.

From inside the room, he could hear Seth on the phone. Debating whether to walk in or not, Ryan decided that he didn't want to interrupt. He stood listening at the door. Seth's voice was muffled. Ryan could just barely make out what he was saying.

"Hi, Summer. I seem to have had a little too much to drink, but don't worry, I'm fine. I'm with Ryan. I... I'll see you tomorrow."

Waiting a minute before opening the door, Ryan was positive he heard voices inside. Pressing his ear against the door, he heard what sounded like...

"You're watching porn?" Ryan said, entering the room and setting the coffees on the dresser. He supposed it was the price he paid for renting a room at the cheapest motel Newport offered.

Seth looked away from the television and gave Ryan a lopsided smile. "Ryan, my friend, this is my last night as a bachelor. I've got to get in the debauchery where I can."

Immediately Seth restored his attention back to the movie where some guy was doing impossible things with his own body. Ryan took a step closer and tilted his head to the side. "How the hell...? Who's that flexible?"

"I am," Seth answered, his attention unwavering.

"Shut up, you are not."

"Swear to God! Got my tongue to touch it when I was thirteen!" This time he _did_ look at Ryan, appearing plenty proud of himself.

Ryan scoffed. "Right."

"Swear, dude. I totally would have gone for it if I hadn't gotten a cramp. It was proudest moment of my life. Well, so far."

"That's...impressive," Ryan said for lack of anything else to say. This was such a bad idea. He should have told Seth to go to his own room...he should tell him that now, because now Ryan had a visual in his head that wasn't exactly helping him to think of Seth as his brother.

Ryan distracted himself by handing Seth the cup of hot coffee. Taking a sip of his own, he let his eyes travel back to the television screen.

When Ryan looked back at the bed, Seth had moved over to the other side. Ryan eyed the spot. There was a chair in the corner, and that would have been the logical choice, but Ryan wasn't thinking too logically.

Ryan was half-starving for affection, if he was honest with himself. He just wanted someone to care again. Or, not just _someone_. Seth. He wanted Seth to care.

Sealing his fate, Ryan lowered himself onto the bed next to Seth. Seth relaxed, and if Ryan wasn't mistaken, moved closer. Their arms barely brushed, but it sent tingles of awareness through Ryan's body, straight to his groin.

Seth's attention was locked on the television. He bit his lip in concentration and tilted his head ever so slightly. Ryan watched him; he could do nothing else. Seth's hand, sweaty palm facing up, rotated, landing on his knee, and he wiped it dry. Kicking off his shoes, his toes wiggled in his socks as he stretched out and got comfortable. Ryan wanted to protest, tell him to stop it; stop pretending everything was okay between them, that they could sit here together and watch a fucking porno and everything was still going to be okay. Seth was manipulating him. Or maybe that was wrong, and he was the one manipulating the situation, but either way, something was about to happen that he couldn't take back. The more Seth relaxed, the more rigid and filled with tension Ryan became. Seth's hand kept moving, nervously smoothing over the grooves in his pants. His other hand was red from the warmth of the coffee cup. Ryan could almost feel what that heat would feel like massaged over his body.

"Drink your coffee," Ryan suggested, his throat hoarse.

Seth tore his eyes from the screen and faced Ryan. Ryan was surprised to find how close they actually were. He could make out every tiny fleck of green and light brown in Seth's dark eyes. "I'm not that drunk, you know." It wasn't Ryan's imagination that Seth's voice had dropped, becoming a near-husky purr.

Ryan unconsciously licked his lips. "You're drunk enough," he said and tore his eyes away.

"When did you get so motherly?" Seth huffed.

"Just drink it."

"Okay, but it's just going to make me more hyper. Coffee really doesn't do anything but wake a drunk person up."

"Well, good. Maybe you'll become alert enough to find your own room and then you can go beat-off there instead of here, where I eventually have to sleep."

Seth choked on the mouthful of coffee he'd just taken. He coughed until his face was beet red, but managed to keep himself, and the bed, dry. At least he had the good sense to set down his cup on the small table beside the bed. "What!"

"You heard me."

"Dude, I wasn't... and, hey, even if I was-"

"Seth, just stop talking and get in your debauchery because I'm kicking you out, after this stupid movie, so I can sleep." Ryan didn't really give a damn how he sounded. At least if Seth thought he was mad at him, it would lessen the chance of him doing something stupid.

An entire five minutes of silence had passed. Ryan had hoped, by some miracle, that Seth had fallen asleep, but that wasn't the case.

"So, hey, you think girls ever watch porn together? "

"Yeah, it's right up there with naked, sweaty, pillow fights at slumber parties."

"Really? You think so? 'Cause that would be hot."

Ryan sighed, frustrated. "I don't know; I'm not a girl."

If Seth would just stop talking...

Ryan was desperate enough to actually start paying attention to the movie. And, even if they were, possibly, watching different people on-screen, it was starting to affect them in the same way.

From the corner of his eye, Ryan could see Seth's hand edging ever closer to the zipper of his pants. He could also see the bulge that Seth wasn't even trying to hide. Ryan waited. He knew, that if he touched him, if he let his hand find him, that Seth would not, could not, respond the way he wanted.

Seth advanced closer, practically rubbing his shoulder against Ryan. Taking a chance, Ryan let his own hand fall to Seth's thigh. Looking sideways, his lips parting, but otherwise okay with it, Seth seemed to give his consent. Ryan proceeded to let his fingers dig into the corduroy as his hand inched upward toward Seth's crotch.

Seth's head rolled to the side. He swallowed thickly. "Do you remember the day you got your first A in college."

Ryan's hand stopped. "Yeah."

"That night, when we..." Seth closed his eyes, taking in a long, deep breath. "It was the first time I ever felt...normal. Like what I wanted wasn't wrong. But I can't- It can't be that way between us anymore. I'm getting married tomorrow. I don't even know why I'm still here. I should go."

"But you won't." Ryan's groin stirred with tempered arousal.

"Ryan." Ryan pulled back his hand, letting it drop to the bed between them. Seth watched. "I mean, it was a stupid thing we did in college, right? A phase, if you will. It was just something that happened. I'm over it."

"Right." It hurt. Ryan couldn't pretend it didn't. "Look, I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to."

"I don't know what I want." Seth sounded like a lost child.

"Don't you think it's a little late to try to figure things out? Like you said, you're getting married tomorrow."

"I know."

Repairing their friendship had taken time. They were almost back to where they'd been before their friendship had evolved into a relationship and the fall-out that had destroyed everything. And, even if Seth would never admit to it, things were about to change again and he was encouraging it.

"Sometimes..."

"What?"

"Huh?"

Ryan looked at Seth curiously. "Did you say something?"

"Yeah, no, I was just saying that sometimes, sometimes when I'm with Summer...sometimes, I dunno, I just let my mind go blank. It's like I have to, you know? Otherwise...I dunno."

It had been Seth who'd initiated everything. Seth who'd kissed him that first time and slipped his belt loose from his pants. But now it was Ryan's turn.

Ryan's hand took up its previous position, rubbing Seth's thigh. He was sure this was the wrong thing to do. In fact, he was positive it was wrong, but he couldn't stop himself. Somewhere he felt his spirit separate, his mind and heart part ways, and he allowed himself to not care, to not believe in right or wrong, if only for however long it took to get them both off. Because it had been too long without Seth's touch and he wanted-needed it-like he'd never needed anything before.

This time it was Ryan who leaned in and Seth didn't stop him. Their lips connected, coffee-warmed and desperate. Seth's tongue, alcohol-soaked and eager, prodded Ryan's mouth open and their tongues touched, tentatively. Something broke. There was a struggle for control, and the easy pace turned frantic. They fell into the kiss, falling so deep, it seemed they'd never find their way back out. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

Ryan pulled back, looking between Seth's red mouth and wide eyes. "Is your mind blank now?"

"Now? No, not so much. I can honestly say that-"

Ryan kissed him again, cutting off his words. Twisting his fingers into Seth's curls, Ryan directed the kiss. He was lost in it. Shifting away from his mouth, he worked a trail down Seth's jaw to his neck. His tongue dipped and laved, feeling Seth's pulse jump under his skin. Moving down his collar, Ryan's teeth sank into the muscle there. His reward was a deep groan from Seth's throat as he pushed himself against Ryan, seeking more contact.

Seth's fingers had somehow wormed their way under Ryan's shirt and were tracing patterns against his spine. And because of that, because Seth was responding, Ryan's hesitation all but left him. His fingers worked blindly unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping Seth's pants. His mouth came back to Seth's, dipping in once again to the madding heat.

Seth shucked his pants and pulled his shirt over his head and pressed himself against Ryan, seeking his mouth. It was fevered and clumsy and so fucking good.

Back at school they had spent whole afternoons doing just this, being rather thorough and lazy but Ryan feared, if he slowed down now, took the initiative to really touch him, it would give Seth just enough time to think things through and end what was happening before it ever began.

If their relationship before had been a slow, passionate build-up, this, right here and now, was an explosion.

Ryan never thought it could be like this... Whatever it was. Not cold, not detached, but something was missing. The way Seth's hands slid around and over and inside-like his fingers were searching for truth, something to set him free...

Seth's skin tasted bitter and Ryan kept testing it, tasting, to get to the sweetness he used to find right underneath his collar, but it was hiding, and the longer Ryan searched for it, the heavier his heart got.

They were different men now. Ryan sometimes bordered on callous these days. He was hardened and closed-off, an enemy against love -an enemy against anything that made him feel. He didn't believe in anything anymore. It was penance for letting Seth slip away. And Seth had lost some of that beautiful innocence that Ryan used to sink into and try to absorb. It was painful to see it reflected in his eyes. Ryan wouldn't give up, though. He needed to remember it just one last time.

And there it was. Right there at the corner of Seth's mouth as Seth pressed his tongue against Ryan's lips, he found what he was looking for.

"Need this..." And that was Seth moaning in his ear, his hands disappearing under Ryan's shirt.

Seth reached for him, but Ryan held his wrists captive and continued exploring Seth's warm skin. Sliding his tongue across Seth's stomach, Ryan meandered a plea of attrition against his skin.

"Wanted..." And that was Ryan trying to express everything he never had before, but the words were clumsy and stuck in his throat.

Taking off his own shirt and tossing it to the side, they rolled around, grasping and clutching to each other. His naked chest pressed against the skin of Seth's back. A warmth flooded him which brought a torrent of repressed memories to the surface. Seth was made of broken glass. Ryan could feel the bones in Seth's back and ribs cutting into him. Seth's hips felt sharp under his palms. And Seth's words, his pleas, pierced through him. All of it, combined, made it hard for Ryan to navigate his way through this suddenly unfamiliar act. He wanted nothing more than for it to be okay, for it to stop hurting.

Ryan scrambled for his bag and blindly searched for lube and condoms. He barely made it back to the bed before Seth was grabbing him and pulling him into another hot kiss.

Their erections strained against one another, the friction sending spikes of warning throughout his body. If they were going to do this, he was going to watch Seth come as he fucked him.

Ryan squeezed the bottle and a stream of slippery liquid coated his hand. It was cold. He had put too much on. It trickled off onto Seth's skin. Seth shivered and a deep need roared inside Ryan.

There was something amateur about the exchange, like it was the first time; like they were stumbling their way through something they had only just learned. His fingers fumbled with the condom and he could barely stop shaking long enough to slide it onto his erection.

"Ah, fuck!" Seth's hips came off the bed, and Ryan bit his lip at the sight of it.

Ryan couldn't wait any longer. "Seth."

"Ye-ah, go ahead."

Then Ryan was penetrating him, gentle and slow. They coalesced, becoming a single entity. Each thrust a sign of worship. The rhythm was gallant, gauged. His hand, wrapped around Seth's dick, worked in tandem with his hips. And Ryan wanted to laugh and cry with the well of memories and the imperfectness of the moment. It was everything to one of them and nothing to the other. And maybe that was wrong...because in this moment it felt like existence had toppled them and nothing else mattered. Pulse and breathing syncing, they sped up, slowed down, moved together and apart, stretching and bowing, conceding to a fast, slapping beat. The hot gush of fluid coating Ryan's hand alerted him to Seth's climax. Ryan thrust harder, throbbing and shattering inside of him.

Their eyes locked for a split-second and then Seth turned his head. Everything went dark. The television screen flickered-the movie long over-whispering blue across their bodies. Ryan pulled out and lay on his back, his breath an uneven metre, contradicting Seth's shallower breaths.

Neither one of them spoke. Ryan couldn't make words form and that had always been the problem. He wanted to call up memories, whisper treasured thoughts he'd only ever held for himself, tell Seth exactly what he meant to him. Everything began and ended with 'I love you,' and that had never been enough. They were drowning in a well of silence.

Ryan had always been able to solve problems in other people's lives, but when it came to his own...he was useless. When it came to things he wanted, Ryan didn't know how to ask, he couldn't just take them.

When he finally got up the nerve to look at Seth, his eyes were closed. Ryan settled in beside him, watching him, until his own eyes refused to stay open.

* * *

Note: Adhering to the R rating of this fic, I have omitted some of the sex scene. If you'd like to read that, I will make it available upon request. 


	5. Wedding Day

There is no end to the appreciation I have for my magnificent betas mel39 and joey 51. Thank you both for putting up with me.

**Wedding Day**

**

* * *

**

Ryan woke in darkness, twisted in sheets, with a headache roaring behind his eyes. Stretching out, his hand found nothing but empty space beside him. Rolling over, he blinked through the gray dawn and realized he was alone.

The dull birth of morning slowly crept in and brought with it striking confusion. The night's events were a rattled blur as his sleep-tossed memory struggled to resurface. It had been Seth's bachelor party. He remembered lots of liquor and then... and then what? Closing his eyes and concentrating, Ryan cruised past the darkness and zeroed in on the individual pictures floating around in his brain and tried to patch them together.

Burrowing deeper into the warmth of his sheets, Ryan tried to stave off the hurt feelings that came with remembering. They forced themselves on him and he doubled over, cocooning himself in the sheets and bedspread, trying to forget again.

He didn't know what was going to happen today and he was a little scared to find out. After what had happened the night before, he wasn't sure how Seth was going to react. He might tell Summer. He might call off the wedding. Or, worst of all, Seth would do nothing at all.

Sleeping with Seth had never been his intention, but after that first kiss... And, Ryan knew, without even having talked to Seth, that this had been a nova-like experience for him and that slowly those feelings-or whatever it was-were going to evaporate.

His throat was a little sore, and he remembered smoking almost an entire pack of Marlboro's. That probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world to do and his stomach apparently agreed.

Smoothing his hand down his face, he felt the roughness of a day's worth of stubble. His skin was still bruised where Seth's mouth had been. He moved his hands over his chest, closing his eyes and remembering Seth's ragged breaths and soft, wet tongue. Dropping his hand, he sighed and got out of bed. There was a lot he had to do to get ready.

* * *

Ryan had one goal in mind when he got to the hall: find Seth. When he heard Luke calling his name, he ploughed past him, making some type of weird Seth-like signal that he couldn't talk, and headed toward the back of the hall. There were two doors to choose from. On the other side of one, he was positive Sandy, Caleb and Seth had gathered. And behind the other, Summer and her bridesmaids were putting together the final touches on her dress and fixing her make-up. Ryan picked a door. His hand hesitated on the doorknob.

"Ryan?"

Ryan turned around, his heart in his throat. The hesitation had cost him. "I'm late," he offered apologetically.

Summer crossed her arms and stepped aside. "Get your ass in here, Chino, and close the door. I don't want Seth to see anything. It's, like, bad luck."

Regretfully, he slipped inside the room and pulled the door shut behind him. He was surprised to find that they were alone.

"Well, what do you think?" Summer swivelled as far as she could without disrupting the carefully crafted material. The design of the dress was such that it wasn't very practical save for the few minutes it would take to walk down the aisle and become a young bride.

"It's nice." He could scarcely breathe. The vision of Summer in white, blushing and nervous, brought about a deep feeling like jealousy that he almost couldn't contain. He looked longingly at the door. He _had_ to talk to Seth.

Summer looked down at herself, smoothing out the gauzy fabric and then looked back up, meeting Ryan's eyes. "Nice? I paid twelve grand for nice? Uh-uh, I don't think so, Chino. Vera Wang isn't _just _nice-"

"Sorry? You look..." Ryan sighed, defeated. In every fold of the lacy gown, in the crown adorned on her head, and the long train sloping over the carpet, clung sparkling beads that shimmered like diamonds in the light. She looked amazing, and was practically glowing. "Beautiful," he finished, lamely.

"That's better," she said, although she still looked unconvinced. "You're not just saying that, are you?"

"No. Seth is going to lose his mind when he sees you."

Summer rolled her eyes. "That boy lost his mind a long time ago, but you really think so?"

Fuck, she wasn't making this easy on him. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Suddenly Summer had his hand in a death grip. Ryan felt like a trapped animal. All he wanted to do was escape. "Please, _Ryan_, don't do this to me."

Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, with something like fear shining through them.

"What am I doing?"

Ryan looked down at his hand where her perfectly manicured nails were starting to dig in. Her eyes followed his and she let go. Ryan rubbed his wrist; Summer was surprisingly strong. "Sorry."

"It's OK."

Summer paced. "It's my wedding day. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life and instead, I have to worry about whether or not my fiancé is going to run off with his brother." She paused to consider what she'd just said. She laughed-not the humorous laugh like when she really found something funny, but a dull, icy laugh that left Ryan feeling cold. "That sounds so wrong."

He supposed even Summer was a little tired of the pleasantries and pretending everything was fine. The undercurrents that had become normal were driving them all insane. It was one thing to hide the truth from everyone around them, it was an entirely different thing to hide the truth from themselves. Summer, like Seth, had to acknowledge that something was wrong. "I don't want to hurt you; you know that," Ryan explained.

"I do, but that doesn't mean you're not. What am I supposed to do, Ryan? I can't just let him go."

"I'm not asking you to."

She swallowed hard. "Then why are you here?" It was a not so subtle examination.

"Seth asked me to-"

"I know how much you love him." Ryan looked away. "I know a part of him will always love you," she continued, her voice shaking. "I've accepted that. But what about me? I love him, too. We've come this far. There are hundreds of people out there." Now Summer looked panicked. Little by little the light went out of her eyes. She laughed again, frigidly, detached. "They're writing an article about this for the society pages. Did you know that?" Ryan shook his head. "Can't you just see the headlines now: Caleb Nichol's grandson leaves bride at altar for adopted brother?"

_This_. She talked about the wedding with such cool stillness, Ryan had to wonder what was driving her. And maybe it had just become this thing for all of them. Just this...this _thing_ that was expected. This is what people did. Ryan shifted his weight and directed his eyes on the floor.

"I know I was awful to you, but Seth made his choice. Why did you have to come here and dredge up the past?" Her voice was so quiet and breaking just a little. "We were doing fine. And now..., now he won't even look at me or, when he does, I wonder if he's thinking about you."

He didn't know what was expected of him anymore so he remained silent.

"He's the only person that ever believe in me, you know? He makes me feel..."

"I know." He hoped she wasn't going to cry; he didn't know what he would do if she did. "I'm sorry."

Ryan had nothing else to say. How was he supposed to reassure her when he had doubts himself? He turned to leave. The least he could do was give her some privacy.

"He says your name in his sleep." Her voice was so quiet, so filled with pain, that Ryan just couldn't leave.

Ryan faced her, searching her eyes. "What?"

"I've never told him he does it. But, sometimes, when he's sleeping I catch him. Maybe he's dreaming, I don't know."

Ryan shook his head, pressing his palm against his temple. The headache he'd woken up with had yet to dissipate. "I don't want to hear anymore."

"Ryan."

Ryan's throat felt very dry and when he spoke his voice was barely a whisper. "Summer, I-"

"Just go. Do what you're going to do, but just remember I warned you." It wasn't a threat. Ryan got the odd sensation that Summer understood, that maybe she even felt a little sympathy for him.

Escaping from the room, Ryan didn't hesitate at the other door this time. He walked right in. Immediately, he spotted Seth. Their eyes connected and Ryan _knew_. Seth looked away. There. That said it all.

Ryan knew that ease, that quiet understanding they'd shared the night before, the lack of expectations-that ease was now gone.

"Hey, uh, we should talk."

"There he is! We were getting worried, kid."

Ryan felt more than saw Sandy standing in the room. He couldn't seem to get his body to move to look. There was a sick feeling brimming inside his stomach. Throwing up was not an option. Clearing his throat, Ryan got himself together enough to turn to look at Sandy. Ryan suddenly felt shy. And his guilt intensified. "Hi, Sandy," he greeted, ducking his head. "Sorry, I- Can Seth and I have a minute alone?"

"Sure, sure. I should find Kirsten anyway. She's a wreck!"

Sandy stopped to adjust Seth's tie, giving his chin a gentle knock with his fist. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Seth murmured and forced a smile.

"Hey, you'll do fine." Sandy enveloped Seth in a hug, crushing him into his tux. Ryan could only watch. "Ryan, talk some sense into this one; he looks ready to flee."

It was Ryan's turn to fake a smile. "Sure," he said and spared a glance at Seth. Seth was green. He was looking at the floor and wouldn't look up for anything.

"See you out there," Sandy said as his departing words, and was out the door, leaving them alone.

Before Ryan could even approach him, Seth put up his hand and took a step back, distancing them. "I can't do this right now. It's not a good time. There are, like, guests out there and,

and-"

"What about last night?" Bitter disappointment rippled through Ryan.

"We were drunk. And, boy, am I feeling the effects of that-"

"Seth."

"Right. Okay. I thought... I mean, we were just saying goodbye." Seth sighed and it sounded weighted. "I've been down this road before. I can't go back."

"You're still going to marry her?" Ryan had expected this, but to actually hear it...it tore at him, causing a splintering pain inside his chest. The silence stretched. "Seth?"

"I have to! Can't you see that? I'm not like you!"

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"It means that in five minutes I'm going to walk out that door, stand in front of hundreds of people, try not to puke, and...and marry Summer. And I'm hoping that you're going to be there standing beside me." Seth glanced at him and then looked away. It made the continual spiral of sadness sink even lower inside Ryan's stomach.

"You want me to go out there and watch and just, what? Pretend everything is okay. It's not okay, Seth. None of this is okay."

"Ryan."

Ryan stopped. No matter how much it hurt, he wanted to hear what Seth had to say. He looked closely, trying to find signs of what Seth was feeling, but his face was a mask, neutral yet completely fake.

"Maybe it was wrong, but I needed to see you. I didn't mean to... Things got out of hand."

"Maybe? Why did you even invite me to the wedding? You made me your Best Man. And for what? Then last night... What did you expect me to think?"

Seth threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, it was the most fucked up thing I could have done, but it has to be this way. I don't regret what happened -any of it. But right now, I need... Marrying Summer is something I have to do. I can't explain it."

"You could try."

"No, yeah, you're right," Seth said, squinting and nodding. "I... The thing is... Wow, this is really hard." He stopped and for a minute Ryan didn't think he would continue.

And then he did.

"It was that night. The night Marissa...died. I dunno, things just changed. I just couldn't deal. Everything was so intense, you know?" he said, looking to Ryan for confirmation. "And Summer. You know what Summer said to me that night? 'Marissa's dead. I need you, Cohen.' That's what she said. She was just...destroyed. I went to see her and, I dunno, maybe I led her on, maybe it was my fault, but the next thing I knew she was kissing me and telling me how much she needed me and I couldn't... I couldn't walk away from her. She just kept repeating it: 'I need you, I need you,' until the words didn't even make sense anymore, you know? I just wanted to make her feel better. I wanted to be there for her like I tried to be there for you. Because you, you just shut down. You didn't need me at all. You still don't."

"That's not true. I always needed you."

Seth scoffed. "No, you didn't. I'm not just talking about after Marissa died, either. You, just, never needed me. I tried to be there for you, I tried to get you to talk, but you just pulled away. It was clear that you would never trust me enough to tell me your secrets, whatever they were. You left before I ever did."

"That's not-"

"True? Come on, Ryan, we both know it is." Seth took a seat and covered his face with his hand.

"What did you want me to tell you?"

"Something! Anything!" He looked up at Ryan. "You, just, never talked to me. Not about anything important, anyway. I poured out my soul to you on a daily basis and you never gave anything back."

"You poured out your soul about video games and comic books," Ryan said flatly.

"That's so not the point. I made myself vulnerable; when did you?"

"I did. Last night. Look how well that turned out."

"Maybe if you hadn't waited so long, we wouldn't be he-"

"Don't pin this on me."

"I'm just saying, if you had told me-"

"What did you want to hear? About my shitty childhood? Yeah, okay, I had a bad fucking childhood. I went to bed afraid. I woke up afraid. I was always fucking afraid! Was I supposed to tell you that? You didn't want to know that. Fuck, I don't even want to remember any of it.

And then Sandy... When I came to live with you, I didn't have to be that kid anymore. I didn't want to be him."

"Ryan."

Seth felt sorry for him now. Ryan could see it in his eyes. "No, you know what? This is exactly why I never told you any of those things."

"Fine, I get it."

"No, you don't, Seth. You never _got_ it. You grew up with two of the best parents any kid could have had and you just, you take it for granted. They love you so much. You think they'd care that you're-"

"Don't say it." Seth sighed.

Ryan was silent. He took a few minutes to let everything sink in. "Summer knows something's up."

"Look, if you ever felt anything for me-"

Whatever sympathy Ryan had been feeling crystallized into anger. "What? What, if I ever felt anything for you then I won't tell Summer what we did last night? Is that what you were going to say? Don't worry; I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm not proud of myself, either."

Ryan moved to the door.

"Wait," Seth called, standing.

"What?"

"I want to explain. I owe you that much." Seth shook his head. "I owe you more than that, but it's all I can give you right now." He sighed. "People look at you and they don't care what you are -you can do anything and they'll still love you. I'm not like that. And I can't do this to Summer."

"But you can live a lie?"

"It's not a lie! I love her."

"What about me?"

"What about _you_?"

"How do you feel about _me_?"

Their eyes met, briefly, before Seth looked away again. It was enough. Ryan had seen how set and sad they were. "You're my friend, my brother," Seth answered, resolute.

"Don't."

"What? You want the truth? What's that going to do? We both know how I feel," Seth muttered, uneasily.

Ryan's own voice softened. "Then why are you doing this?" He wasn't asking entirely for his own benefit.

"Because I have to. I want a family, Ryan. My parents want grandchildren, probably, eventually. I don't even know. And my grandfather. God, could you even imagine what he would say if I told him that you and I...?"

"You can have-"

"Even if I-" Seth struggled to speak. "Fuck it! I can't, okay? I just...I can't do it. This fucking sucks, okay? I don't... I never wanted-"

"Save it." Excuses. Ryan didn't need to hear excuses right now. He didn't know why it was so easy for Seth to walk away and he didn't want to hear platitudes that would leave him feeling empty.

"Ryan, don't be mad at me. Please."

"You can't be serious." Why was it so easy for Seth to declare everything as over when only the night before they had given each other everything, dispensed longing and passion and fear as they became a part of each other? And now Seth had pawned that trust, that bond, as something cheap and worthless. Ryan was not okay with that.

"I just... You have every right to hate me, and you probably do, but you'll never hate me as much as I hate myself." Suddenly he was confronted with Seth, devoid of flippant remarks and selfishness. This Seth was raw, a bleeding portal hidden under all the layers of ego he covered himself in. Ryan could see, looking out at him, the little boy teased on the playground and made to feel inferior by bullies that ground down his spirit. He was shattered. There were just small fragments of bravery left. It would be asking too much, demanding more than Seth could stand, for Ryan to disagree. Because the truth was, Ryan still didn't have it in him to hate Seth.

"Seth."

"I never asked to be this way and I don't - I don't know that I can make this work, but I have to

try, right? Things would be different if- Things would be different. Tell me you understand."

"I can't." Ryan didn't really know what Seth meant by that; he doubted Seth even really understood. He wasn't going to beg him. He still had _some_ pride left. Some, not much. But it was enough. "I'll see you out there," Ryan said and slipped out the door, leaving Seth standing in the middle of the room, alone.

* * *

Coming to the wedding was the bravest and dumbest thing Ryan had ever done. Deep down Ryan knew Seth would choose Summer. It was the prudent thing to do. Sometimes showing the world who you really were was just too big a gamble. This was the way things were and he had to learn to accept that. Ryan had one good year with Seth. That was more than some people ever got. He realized that it would be selfish to ask for more.

Ryan tried to pay attention as Seth bumbled through his vows. He was fairly certain Summer cried when it was her turn. Ryan had to wonder if they were tears of joy, or tears because she knew that it was a mistake. Behind him he heard whispers of "sweet" and "honest" and "meant to be," but all he could see was the lie. That was his future being given to Summer up there on the altar in front of all these people. Those bumbled words belonged to him. And when Seth's foot came crashing down at the end of the ceremony, Breaking the Glass, shattering it into a million pieces, Ryan couldn't help feeling like it had been his heart inside the silk handkerchief.

Ryan could barely make his lips form the words as half the guests erupted in chants of Mazel Tov, congratulating the new couple. Seth and Summer were married.

And it hurt.

* * *

The reception hall was decorated similarly as it had been the night of the rehearsal dinner, but everything was grander. The bouquets were bigger, the pink was more intense, and the guests were less real. Ryan had never schmoozed with so many people in his entire life. He couldn't wait for the night to be over.

Julie hovered, watching, in her low-cut red dress, seemingly raised above the crowd in her Manolo Blahnik stiletto heels, waiting for a moment alone with Ryan. From the corner of his eye, Ryan could see her scouting out her approach. There was almost something predatory with the way her cat eyes followed him around. When Anna left him to get a drink, Julie moved in for the kill.

"Ryan."

Ryan cleared his throat. "Mrs. Cooper."

"Call me Julie. It's Carpenter now, anyway. I married Bill last fall. He's a stockbroker. Old as the hills, but he's worth millions. Poor man has a heart condition. Oh, there he is! Hi, Billy!"

"Ah, I can see why you would be attracted to a man like that," Ryan said, sardonically.

Julie had remarried Jimmy the same year Seth, Ryan, Summer and Marissa went away to school. Ryan had heard that the marriage had fallen apart after Marissa died, but he couldn't resist taking a dig at her. There was a part of Ryan that had always blamed Julie for Marissa being so screwed up...there was a part of himself that he blamed for not being able to stop Marissa from killing herself. If he had just done something... If he had been there... For weeks, after she died, Ryan had terrible dreams. One more vivid dream involved Marissa's skeletal figure sitting at the end of his bed in an eyeless stare, not speaking, just waiting. Those dreams would pull him out of sleep, sweat-soaked and nauseous, as he strained to see in the dark.

"Marissa would have loved this."

Ryan was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost forgot about Julie. He gritted his teeth. Like Julie Cooper had known anything about her own daughter. He wouldn't say anything, though. It was neither the time nor the place. When Ryan didn't bite, Julie seemed to let go of her nostalgia and moved on to shallower topics.

"So, Ryan, seeing anyone?" She pulled the tiny plastic straw out of her drink and licked the end.

Ryan flinched. "Uh, you know I'm gay, right?" He wasn't ashamed of who he was but saying it out loud never got any easier.

"Ooh," Julie said, flustered. "Well, of course. Did you think I was hitting on you?"

"I-"

"Oh, look, there's Luke. Excuse me, won't you?"

"Gladly," Ryan whispered under his breath.

"I hope that husband of hers lives until he's ninety-three."

Ryan felt the weight of Sandy's arm around his shoulder. It was comforting. "Hey, Sandy."

"So, how you doing, kid?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"Oh, you know. Kirsten passed out about half-an-hour ago; she had just a little too much wine, what with all the stress, but other than that, things went well."

"The ceremony was nice," Ryan remarked.

"Yeah, it was." A moment of silence passed. "Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know what happened between you and Seth... I know the two of you have been having some sort of problem for a while, but it doesn't change how Kirsten and I feel about you. You're always welcome in our home. Just so we're clear."

Ryan wasn't sure how much Sandy knew, how much he'd guessed or what connections he'd put together-whether he just thought that he and Seth were having a brotherly spat or if he knew that their problems ran much deeper-but he did know that Sandy meant every word he said. Even if Ryan and Seth never spoke again, Kirsten and Sandy were still there for Ryan. It meant more to him than he could ever express.

Unable to find the right words, Ryan settled for a simple "thank you."

"I'd better get Kirsten some coffee. If the Newpsies see her like this, they'll be gossiping for weeks."

"Later." Ryan raised his hand for a slight wave as Sandy strode off. When he dropped his hand to his side, Anna took it. Turning his head slightly, he smiled at her. "Where's your drink?"

"Icky boob man was at the bar. I had to make a beeline back here as quick as I could."

Ryan chuckled, but it lacked any force.

They stood in silence for a long moment, watching Summer and Seth dance. They were joined now as husband and wife and nothing, barring a divorce, could break that bond. There were lines that Ryan would never cross and this was one of them.

It was agony. It felt like his insides were being ripped out and they were slow dancing right over them.

"How are you doing?" Blunt. Anna was not one to walk around the issue.

"Me? I'm fine."

"Ryan, come on. It's not over; Seth'll realize he did the wrong-"

"He won't." Ryan knew that as truth even if the rest was all a jumbled mess inside his head. Maybe Seth didn't even really exist. Maybe Ryan had made him up and the real splendour was that he'd added all the goodness he'd always craved from another person and subtracted everything that hurt too much to recognize as something real. Lies, maybe. Lies to console himself.

"How do you know?"

"I just know. He wants a family. I can't give him one; Summer can."

"You could always adopt. There are plenty of things you could do. It shouldn't end here. It just doesn't feel right."

"He did the right thing." The words slipped out surprisingly easy in spite of the way his heart lurched and fell.

"You don't really believe that."

Ryan didn't know what he believed anymore. "He deserves to be happy. He wants to be a father."

"He can still be a father without-"

"Summer needs him," he interrupted.

"More than you do?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Ryan," Anna said, softly. She pulled him into her arms before he had time to think to protest and then it just felt nice and comfortable, and he couldn't be bothered to push Anna away.

Ryan chuckled. "So, ten years, huh?"

Anna nodded. "Ten years." She took Ryan's hand again and pulled him along with her onto the dance floor. "Come on, I'll let you dance with me. Besides, you still owe me a dance from the Debutant Ball."

"Right. I might step on your feet."

Anna squeezed his hand. "I don't mind."

Ryan was subsumed with gratitude. "Thanks, Anna."

Anna blushed. "Yeah, yeah. No fistfights, okay?"

"I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

* * *

Ryan had called Anna a cab and saw her off before returning to the party. She'd had enough of the Newport social scene to last her a good year or two.

The night was winding down. Most of the guests had left; the cake sat in ruins, a mess of pink and white frosting; the floor was covered in confetti, reminding Ryan of pink paper throw-up and empty champagne flutes, bottles of beer, cups of punch and mixed drinks lay abandoned at every table. It had been what Ryan expected, but much harder than even he had imagined.

Ryan realized halfway through the reception that avoiding Seth was stupid. There was no need to even bother, Seth was keeping his distance and certainly wasn't trying to get him alone.

Ryan tracked Kirsten down at the head table where she had apparently sobered up. He took the seat beside her. "I thought you'd passed out."

"Is that what Sandy's telling everyone? No wonder one of the Newpsies slipped me an Alcoholics Anonymous card."

Ryan laughed, uneasily. "Listen, I think I'm going to take off."

She moved forward, plunging into the fluorescent glow of the lights overhead, making her hair shine golden, and the side of her face look sallow. "Already?"

"It's been a long day."

"Okay. Make sure you come by in the morning before you leave. I'll even order breakfast. How do you feel about blueberry pancakes?"

"I, uh, have some things I have to get done before I go back to work... I was going to wake up early and head out, less traffic that way."

The delicate skin beside her eyes creased, and her mouth turned up just slightly, just enough for Ryan to see a hint of a smile. "We never got to have our talk."

"Next time?"

Kirsten looked at him then, really looked, her blue eyes penetrating his, and Ryan couldn't help feeling exposed. Finally, after a minute, she nodded. "Okay, next time."

She pulled him into a tight hug. This time, he _really_ didn't want to let go. Somehow he wished the protection her arms offered him would stay with him forever. But nothing could last forever.

* * *

The bathroom was empty when Ryan entered it and he was thankful he didn't have to hobnob with any more guests. He looked at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands, so focussed he didn't hear anyone come in.

"Hey, man."

Ryan turned, but didn't speak. He didn't think he'd have to have another confrontation with Seth -not this soon, at least.

"Platinum," Seth said, holding up his hand, showing off his ring finger. "Summer hates gold; she says it clashes with...something. I can't remember what, exactly." He tried to laugh, but it fell flat.

"Seth, what do you want?"

"I wanted to apologize. I let things get out of control and- I don't want to make excuses. I'm just going to get to the point, because the more I think about this, the more nervous I get and I came in here to, possibly, throw-up when I thought you'd gone back to your hotel without saying goodbye or anything; but you're obviously not gone because you're standing right in front of me."

"Seth, if you have a point, get to it."

Seth shifted his weight. "Are we ever going to be okay?"

"I don't know," Ryan said, fixating on the tiles on the floor.

Seth snapped his fingers and took a step closer. "Hey, I just got a brilliant idea, dude." He was smiling. Ryan wondered how he could still do that. It seemed out of place after such carefully executed words not a moment before. It was going to take Ryan some time before he had something to smile about. It was just another mask. Just another part of himself Seth conjured up when harsh reality was too painful to face. "You should stay a few extra days. I dunno, maybe come over and I'll make us waffles. 'Cause I can do that now, Ryan."

Ryan knew what Seth was trying to do, but he couldn't pretend any longer. "I can't stay. I... I need some time."

Seth's smile faded. "So this is it? You're just gonna leave and, what, like, never come back?"

"I don't know."

"What if I made a mistake?" Ryan could see that reality-the realness of the commitment Seth had made-had finally sunk in.

"Summer loves you. And I... Figure out a way to make this work, Seth. If you love her the way you say you do, you'll find a way. Summer's your wife now and you owe it to her."

"That's just it, I'm not sure-"

"You hurt me, you're hurting yourself, and what, now you're going to hurt her too?"

"No, I don't want to- I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just want... I want things to be okay between us."

"How?"

"Can't we just forget about everything? Forget what happened."

"I don't want to forget. And I'm tired of pretending."

"What can I do to make it okay?"

"I don't know."

"Would you stop saying that? 'I don't know. I don't know.' What the fuck, Ryan! You sound like a machine."

Ryan moved quicker than Seth could react. In one slick motion, Seth was trapped. Ryan's chest and hips were pressing into his and one of his hands was on either side of Seth's body. Ryan could keep him here all night if he wanted. And a part of him did want to. "You don't get to yell at me. You got that?"

Seth's first instinct was to struggle, but Ryan was stronger and they both knew it. Seth pushed forward and Ryan pushed back. Seth pushed again and Ryan used all his strength to keep him immobile and pinned against the concrete wall. "Yeah, I got that," Seth relented.

Ryan bowed his head, letting it rest against the lapels of Seth's tuxedo jacket. He spoke into Seth's shoulder. "I'm so sick of doing this. You can't keep giving me hope and then taking it back. It's not fair."

"I don't know what else to do." Seth wasn't struggling anymore, he was clinging; clinging onto Ryan so tight, it ached.

"I have to go," Ryan said and pried himself away. If he didn't do it then, he'd never be able to.

Seth didn't follow him out of the bathroom and Ryan didn't stop walking until he was outside.

His body crashed into the brick wall and it bit into his spine, but Ryan didn't feel anything.

The sky was clear and the air was warm.

Ryan shivered.

Sometimes the rain never stopped falling.

* * *

end. 


End file.
